


Snakes stew

by cortchuzska



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all who asked for a follow up to the chapter “Sand's snake” in “Awakenings” , that's it; for everybody else, the set is a Septry in the Reach, where Tyene, her sisters and her cousin are visiting her mother; but the true protagonist is Arthur, her baby snake. The Stark children have direwolves, and we have seen all kind of animals starring as pet to Disney Princesses, so why not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snakes stew

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Awakenings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/436673) by [cortchuzska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska). 



“He doesn't seem to like it here.” Tyene repeated, distressed.

“He has been alone in your cell all day. I wouldn't like it either.” Replied Sarella, kneeling by the wicker basket Arianne was holding.

The two older girls were busy with tea. Nymeria stared in awe at her sister, who was stoking the fire: burnt down embers glowed again, and soon bright flames danced atop them.

“How did you manage that, Obara?”

“Not everybody here grew up in a mansion, with slaves by the score at her beck and call. I lit my own fire, before..” She put down the poker, and her voice hushed down to a wheeze. “When not all the coin was drunk up, and some was left for food and wood, that is.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to remind you of Oldtown.” Nym reached for her sister's shoulder but the eldest girl swatted away her hand. “You hated it there, didn't you?”

Their exchange was not lost to Sarella's keen ears.

“Why would you, sister?” She marveled. “The Hightower is the highest beacon in the whole world, said mother, and father told no library has as many books as the Citadel: you must have had a wonderful time! We called at Oldtown once, it is the largest port in the Seven Kingdoms and the most beautiful...” Arianne made a sulking face, and Sarella hurriedly conceded. “Well, not as beautiful as the Water Gardens, but much better than King's Landing.”

Tyenel shook her blonde head. “Arthur is not like himself: he doesn't want to play.”

“Father told you not to bring him.” Huffed Obara. “Dorne is where he belongs.”

Sarella disagreed. “The world is big and wonderful, and I want to see it all: why people make such a fuss about where they come from? Arthur is smarter than that.”

“The climate of the Reach scarcely agrees with a snake.” Nymeria put it into more palatable words.

“But I had to get him to know mother!” Tyene protested.

“And here I thought you wanted _us_ to meet her.” Scoffed Nym.

“You too...” Tyene pushed a thimble of chopped yolk to him. “He doesn't eat either: do you think him ill?”

The girls closed up by the little snake.

“He is not used to bland food, is all: back home we gave him dragonfyre eggs*.” Arianne put on a brave face and reassured her cousin. “Just in case, you can take him to the infirmary for a check.”

“Your mother is a famed healer, everyone says so.” Nymeria agreed. “She will certainly know what to do with him. Father would.”

Tyene turned around a doubtful look. “Snakes are not that common in the Reach: she never treated one before, I fear.”

Obara petted him. “He looks sleepy, poor thing.”

Sarella lit up and clapped. “Course he does: _dormancy!”_

“Dor... What?”

“When bears sleep off winter if up Norh it gets too icy even for them, Obara. It's in the book Septa Ysaldine gave me.” Sarella explained. “Here is much colder than Arthur is used to.”

“He is a snake, sweetling, not a bear.” Nym remarked.

“So what? Neither am I, and would sleep on rather than wake up in a chilly room all the same!” argued Sarella.

“Dormancy.” Nymeria sighed. ” A Septa, of all people, should not teach a small child such words, nor stuff her little head with evil notions. How are we supposed to get her up in time from now on?”

“Dump her bedding on the floor, and Sari with it. That's the quickest, Nym.” Obara had never been patient, and Princess or baseborn, at the Septry being late for breakfast meant no breakfast at all.

All in all, Sarella's point was a strong one. The girls gazed at each other.

“We should better keep him warm while we are away.” Arianne resolved and headed for the kettle by the fireplace. “We can dunk Arthur in, let him soak, and....”

“Have snake stew for supper. ” Obara talked her down.

Sarella wailed. _“Arthur_ stew _!”_

Tyene snatched the kettle from her cousin. “Don't you touch him! You... You _slaughterer_!”

“I was just trying to help: I am no murderer of babies! ” Arianne cried, soon followed by Tyene's racking sobs.

Obara rolled up her eyes, and Nym muttered. “Father said the Reach is no fitting place for a snake.”

“Stop it; you will only scare the little ones.” Obara elbowed her, and hunched down by the weeping children. “Father has his best horses blanketed after a ride, so they don't get a chill. We can do the same.”

“A horse rug?” Sniffled Tyene. “Do you realize how _tiny_ Arthur is?”

Nymeria offered. “A silk kerchief then; you can use one of mine.”

“Much good would it do.” Obara countered. “A flimsy scrap, with no padding.”

“It's not even the right shape: he needs a properly fitted, snug bed roll.” Tyene decided..

“You are good at sewing and we will help you” Nymeria ruffled her sister blond hair. “It will be ready in no time.”

“Just so.” Sarella agreed. “You can wear it Arthur around your arm till then. He'll stay nice and warm under a wooden sleeve.”

\--o--

After the hymn to the Maid, Mother and Chrone that marked the beginning of every lesson, Septa Ysaldine scanned her girls, the fair and dark heads bent on their work.

She looked proudly at the Dornish sewing table; not everyday she was in charge of a Princess; as to the others, if the eldest's manners needed lot of hard work, the second had the flawless grace of an accomplished little lady, Tyene had been welcomed back as the sweet child all the Septry remembered fondly, and the last one had already made herself known as a sharp little thing.

A pity not to put to good use the gifts the Seven blessed us with, but hardly a woman could devote herself to study outside a Septry, all the more one of their unfortunate birth. Girls without a family name to back them should better learn a trade soon, or they would be easy prey to wicked men.

Men like their father, who took a new mistress at every moon's turn, and changed them as other would a cloak. He had just sired a child on his kept woman, and the wretch was a Sand as they were. Yet, often those whose sinful ways most deserved the Father's justice offered their daughters to the Faith, so that the prayers of pure hearts would plea for the Mother's mercy. Indeed, turning wickedness misbegotten fruits to virtue was not the slightest miracle worked by the Seven, and she could hope one of them would stay forever.

By now they were busy, measuring cloth swaths, matching coloured silks and fluffing wool for their project: a quilt for their baby sister, by the small size of it. She would check on them later; if anyone could be trusted with a needle, that was Tyene. Septa Ysaldine nodded approvingly and moved over to other groups, which needed more of her help.

As soon as she left them, Tyene murmured softly. “Be quiet, Arthur, or you will get no coverlet at all. How am I supposed to sew, with you around my wrist and messing with the treads?”

Arianne, begging forgiveness for the previous day mishap, offered to take him, and wound the little snake around her neck.

Ysaldine did not miss the unusual stirring; the Dornish discipline was somehow lacking, but they were learning, and silenced at her scowl; she was already turning away her gaze, when the bright colours of a necklace caught her eyes. She made for the Dornish cohort: a sermon against worldly seductions was needed just now. Even the tiniest character flaws was dangerous in their condition, and could make them fall into sin, never to raise again from its mire.

“Jewels are not allowed here nor are they proper on little girls. You all remember, in the Seven's eyes no adornment matches the shine of a godly life. Vanity is the sin young ladies like you should ward off more carefully. Take off your necklace, child.”

“It's not a necklace.” said the little Princess, in a very thin voice.

“Lying is a twice grievous sin; in itself, and as a cover up to another.”

“I am not a liar.” Arianne protested. “That's not a jewel, it's a snake.”

“It _looks_ like a snake.” Septa Ysaldine insisted.

No one but the Dornish would pin a scorpion on their heart or coil a snake around their arm; a strange people indeed, who shaped their jewels like poisonous animals, and adorned themselves with emblems of death.

She reached out her hand and said firmly. “Give it to me, Princess.”

The little girl looked up uncertainly at her, slowly unwinding her necklace.

It was an impressive work of art, worthy of the heir to Dorne, more lifelike than the dusty specimens Ysaldine would show her pupils, not that she fancied getting acquainted with live serpents. The Rhoynar of old had been versed in many crafts, and it still showed in their descendants magnificent style, albeit too ornate, too dazzlingly coloured to a Septa's sober taste.

She relented a bit, and encouraged the Princess. “Be a good girl now, and you can bring your necklace the day we are having a lesson about snakes.”

Nymeria reprimanded her cousin's still grudging attitude. “We should be on our best behaviour, and never forget who we are, father instructed. We represent Dorne here, you especially, Arianne.”

“Be respectful and obedient, he said us.” Quoted Tyene.

Obara's glower brokered no argument. “Father told so. You obey.”

Arianne obeyed.

The shriek froze the Mander.

Sarella scooped up a hissing yet hale Arthur from the yarn basket he had been hurled to, while Obara turned to Septa Ysaldine, collapsed to the ground.

After a glimpse Tyene urged her sister. “Nym, go fetch my mother at the infirmary, and be quick about it. Essence of nightshade would serve.”

As Septa Ysaldine herself acknowledged later, if she had to spend the rest of day in the sickroom to calm her pounding heart, it was entirely her fault.

**Author's Note:**

> *Dornish eggs (asos, 59 Sansa IV et alii) are a blatant copycat, far from the real thing: no one eats “Spaghetti bolognese” in Bologna.


End file.
